The Story of Us
by goldskies7120
Summary: "When he saw that girl with the honey-blonde hair glare at him like he had just stabbed her puppy, he didn't know what to think." A collection of one-shots about the seven, mainly Percy and Annabeth. All are set in their typical half-blood world. Just a little passion project. Requests for one-shots will be accepted. Disclaimer, all characters owned by Rick Riordan.
1. The Girl With the Honey-Blonde Hair

**Just a little passion project!**

 **If you like this, please check out my story Oceans Away, and maybe provide some feedback on another story I'll continue later on, called Wordlessly.**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

When he saw that girl with the honey-blonde hair glare at him like he had just stabbed her puppy, he didn't know what to think.

To be fair, he wasn't really in the mood to think. He had just lost his mother. He had almost been killed by some psycho bull-man. He had just learned that his best friend was half donkey. Or was it half goat?

I mean, yeah sure. She was kind of cute. But he wasn't even properly conscious, let alone in shape to answer some girl asking him if he was "the one".

By the time he had woken up and gone on a full-blown quest with her, however, he realized that maybe he had made a new friend - a friend for life even. She was annoying. And bossy. And a major know-it-all. But everything around him was changing faster than the speed of light. It would be nice to have someone to hold him through it.

* * *

Percy didn't know what her problem was.

I mean, yeah, Tyson wasn't the most attractive. And the fact that he had one eye was a slightly disconcerting. But he was still human. Or, well, half-human. At the very least, she could treat him like one. More importantly, he didn't get why Tyson's presence made her constantly angry at Percy. Girls are weird, huh?

But she was still his friend. And he would stand by her no matter what. Against the son of Hermes. The Sirens. Polyphemus.

After having nobody in his life to turn to (apart from Grover, Chiron, and his mother), he sure as heck wasn't going to lose her. Weirdly, he felt like he might even jump in front of a sword for her. And he had only known her a year.

So once she made peace with her past and became friends with Tyson, he felt proud. And maybe a little softer towards her. Maybe Annabeth wasn't that bad. Maybe there was more to her than she let on.

She was his friend, after all. And he wasn't going to let her go.

* * *

Puberty was depressing.

The one shot he got at dancing with his best friend was in a high school gym surrounded by people they didn't even know. Which, of course, doesn't sound too bad if you actually know how to dance. Or if you're actually taller than your partner.

But no. He had to be the scrawny, clumsy one, awkwardly shuffling around to a nonexistent beat, embarrassing himself with every step he took, every word that stumbled out of his mouth.

Yet, when he lost her, that was the memory he kept coming back to. That was the moment that he kept wanting to relive, over and over like a record on repeat. As he traveled along the east coast, tearing down everything in his past just to get an inkling of knowledge about where she was and whether she was okay, he recalled every little movement of their feet. The feel of her cool hands against his clammy ones. That twinkle in her eye that put him on top of the moon.

He missed her. Badly. And when he got her back, it felt like cold water dripping down his throat after weeks of dehydration.

That day, in the throne room of Olympus, he recreated that strange little dance. The shuffling of their feet to their own personal song was the only thing that mattered to Percy. Screw Atlas. Screw the gods. Screw every single monster who dared to keep him from getting his Annabeth back.

All he needed was her.

* * *

He liked spending time with Annabeth. He really did.

But he didn't realize that he loved it so much that what seemed like five minutes in an underground cavern somehow turned into an hour.

When she got her first quest, he had mixed emotions. He was proud of her for finally getting what she had always wanted. But he was scared for her life. He couldn't bear to lose Annabeth again. Not after last winter. And if he lost her permanently…

Gods, he couldn't even imagine.

So when he feigned being the calm one, patting her back and inhaling her lemon-scented shampoo, he swore to himself that he would do anything he could to protect her. Even if it meant sacrificing his own life.

Of course, he didn't think it would actually come to that. Yet, Percy found himself in that very situation, yelling at her to leave while the volcano around them spat out fountains of liquid fire. That's when she surprised him with that kiss.

And throughout his time on that lovely island, all he could think of was the taste of her lips. The feel of her breath on his cheek as she bid him goodbye. As sweet of a farewell as that was, he didn't want that moment to be their last. So he came back.

And was promptly disappointed. She seemed to hate his guts for the rest of the quest. Yelling at him, hating on Rachel, pining after Luke…

But he would wait for her. He would stay with her every step of the way, even if she didn't want him to. He would be right by her side until she decided she wanted to be right by his. And if she didn't… well, he would cross that bridge when he got to it.

Either way, he would never leave her alone again. Because as far as Percy knew, a relationship that started with a kiss on top of an active volcano filled with man-eating monsters was definitely a permanent one.

* * *

He couldn't bear to be around her anymore.

Being with her was a constant reminder that he would die on his sixteenth birthday. A reminder that, soon, he wouldn't be able to protect her anymore. Within weeks, she would be at the mercy of this cruel world and he wouldn't be there to save her from it.

So he hung out with Rachel instead. Yes, Rachel was a good friend. She kept him distracted from the fact that he was about to die. She was easy to talk to, and she seemed to understand everything he'd been through. She was there for him, just like he was there for Annabeth.

Too late, he realized what he had really done. That he had done the very thing he had sworn to protect Annabeth from. He had hurt her.

He did all he could to reverse it. He plunged himself into his work. He took every chance he could to ensure that Annabeth would live in a safer world. When he reached for her under the River Styx, he did so in hopes that, although he most likely wouldn't live, his sacrifice would help her. That he would give her the gift of a better life, in which she wouldn't have to worry about Kronos, or Luke, or that trouble-making butthead she called Seaweed Brain.

When she took that knife for him, he realized that, no matter what he did, he couldn't actually save her from death. He couldn't control what happened to her. And that's what scared him the most.

Annabeth was precious. She was beautiful. She was brilliant. She was loving. She was the blue to his sky, the water to his sea, the smarts to his brain. She was his purpose in life. She was the reason he got up every morning. He lived for the knowledge that she was breathing the same air as him, walking on the same ground as him, dancing to the same song as him. A life without Annabeth was no life at all.

So what was the point of becoming a god when he wouldn't have that bright smile and those sparkling grey eyes lighting up his day?

There was none.

And the day he realized that ended up being the best day of his life.

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 **I hope you liked it! Feel free to give me any feedback, good or bad!**


	2. Summertime

**Thank you for the feedback! I'm trying to experiment with my writing with this one-shot series, so I really appreciate any tips you guys give me!**

 **Also, DDaughterOfAthena, thank you for the request! I'm working on it right now, though it might be a little bit before I post it.**

 **In the meantime, here's a short blurb that I already had written. I hope you guys like it! It's based off of the song Summertime by Yellow Claw. It's an EDM song, and it's one of my favorites. This is just what I imagined when I heard the song. I don't know if you'll think of the same thing, but yeah. It's my first attempt at third person omniscient, so it might seem a bit awkward at times. If it does, then please let me know, and I'll try my best to fix it.**

 **Please review!**

* * *

 _I don't know why, but this feels like summertime  
Out late at night, with you standing by my side  
Maybe it's the lights or the walk that your skin on mine  
I don't know why, but this feels like summertime_

Her skin glowed under the streetlamps as a smile inched its way across her face. Her hair bounced with every step she took. Her eyes were brighter than the stars and the moon combined.

She was talking about architecture. Go figure. She was describing all of the changes she would make to Berkeley's buildings had she been in charge of constructing them. In all honesty, what she was describing sounded beautiful. Sleek, tilted rooftops, modern materials, tinted windows, all that jazz.

But the way she seemed to be visualizing it, wonder filling her eyes as she immersed herself in her imagination, she was easily more beautiful than any building she could conjure up. He couldn't stop staring at her.

Somewhere in the middle of her monologue, she glanced at Percy. She didn't fail to notice the dreamy look in his eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

Percy gave her that endearing yet incredibly frustrating smirk. "You."

She shoved him away, but their intertwined hands pulled him back to her. "You dork."

His eyes only brightened as he drew her to a stop in the middle of the empty backroad. He wrapped his other hand around hers and stared deep into her eyes. "I love you, Wise Girl."

Annabeth couldn't help but feel giddy. This was hardly the first time he said it, yet every time, it felt new. Different. And every time, she could tell he meant it with his whole heart.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him into a long embrace. "I love you too, Seaweed Brain."

Warmth escaped from one body and into the other. Heat wasn't the only thing they shared. They shared secrets. They shared lives. They shared hearts.

They stood there, rocking side to side in the middle of the road, until a car honked at them. When it did, they were hardly surprised. They just laughed.

They jogged to the sidewalk, hand-in-hand, and the car driver smiled. Young love. So refreshing. So beautiful.

They kept walking under the streetlights, never once letting go of each other, going who knows where for who knows how long. But that was the beauty of love. To never know where you're going, to never know where you're going to end up, but enjoying the experience nonetheless. To truly relish every moment together.

It didn't have to be summertime for them to appreciate that.


	3. One Mortal Girl

**Here you are, DDaughterOfAthena! I don't know if it's what you had in mind, but I hope it's okay! Let me know if you would like me to change anything!**

* * *

Imagine you have this stuffed animal that you've owned since the beginning of your childhood. Let's say it's a… a stuffed horse. You got it as a gift from your grandma when you were born and you've been inseparable since. It lay with you in the cradle as you gurgled and cried. It was the only one of your toys that didn't get torn to pieces during your terrible twos. You slept with it, brought it to show and tell, and kept it with you every waking moment of your day. Even when you grew up, it held an immense amount of value to you. You clung to it when you cried, having been bullied by your so-called best friends. You washed it by hand when it got dirty, since it was too fragile to shove in the laundry. You even sewed it up on your own when a rip split across its back from overuse.

It was the only permanent thing in your life, and it meant more than the world to you.

And then, one unfortunate day, you got a sister.

You never asked for her. In fact, you didn't even want her. You were perfectly fine on your own with your faithful friend by your side. Even though said friend was inanimate.

From the moment you set your eyes on your sister, you knew that she was trouble. Her appearance could only be detrimental to your life.

And it was. In the span of fifty seconds, she saw your stuffed horse and she demanded it for herself. You adamantly refused, but then she threw a tantrum. You quickly left before she could do anything too bad and retreated to your bedroom.

When you woke up in the morning, your horse was gone. Whisked away from under your very nose while you were fast asleep. And you were furious. The evil, scheming witch had stolen your dearest friend from you and had torn your hopes to shreds. Why wouldn't you be angry?

Why shouldn't she be angry?

And Percy was so gods-damned oblivious to every single thing she did. Annabeth had even kissed him, for gods' sakes, and he still pranced around with his stupid girlfriend like nothing had happened. Like their bond meant nothing.

She slumped onto the half-eaten couch. Louis XVI furniture. Typical of satyrs.

Today, the redhead had stupidly decided to barge into the middle of a war, that dumb mortal. And Annabeth, of all people, was forced to save her. To save the girl who had single-handedly snatched away her best friend.

She had a mind to just let the girl crash to the ground with a resounding bang. There was nothing she wanted more than to keep Percy to herself. But she wasn't that cruel. A life was a life, no matter how annoying it was.

She winced as a painful pang shot through her bad shoulder. Stupid Percy. Stupid Rachel. Stupid life.

Sighing, she let herself fade into sleep. The Fates would keep them together if they willed it. If those two were meant to be, then maybe she would have to look somewhere else for something permanent.

* * *

Green mist swirled around the Big House as she stared dumbfoundedly at the scene before her. She knew what was happening. She was aware of what being an oracle entailed and how dangerous it was. She couldn't believe that Rachel was doing such a thing. She could die or go comatose or go crazy like May Castellan at the very least. She may not like Rachel like Percy did, but even _she_ knew that the redhead was taking too much of a risk.

Needless to say, her respect for Rachel had increased tenfold.

Her gaze flitted from Chiron to Percy to Apollo to Rachel. Chiron looked pleased, though he occasionally winced due to his broken bones. Percy looked shocked and a little miffed. He kept fidgeting uncomfortably. Apollo just looked hot. When he noticed her glance, he winked at her. She flushed slightly.

But Rachel. She looked different. Not just because she was glowing. Her entire demeanor had changed. Her shoulders were relaxed and her eyes were much brighter. She looked a lot more comfortable with herself. Her tone was calm and patient, rather than her typical bullet-train manner of speaking.

Rachel was now a better version of herself, and Annabeth felt weirdly proud of that. This mortal girl had finally discovered where she belonged, something that was very difficult to achieve.

Now it was Annabeth's turn.

Later that day, Annabeth contemplated what it would mean for herself. If Rachel was now Oracle, she would have to renounce men, which meant that she couldn't do anything with Percy, which meant…

...maybe it was time for her to make her move.

A smile crept across her face. The Fates were truly geniuses.

* * *

The campfire's orange light flickered across the campers' faces as they sang "Old McGeryon Had A Farm". Percy's arm was draped across her shoulders. She leaned in and nuzzled his neck.

Beside her, Rachel was singing loudly, clapping along with the beat. Her hair was its own roaring flame. Her green eyes were shockingly bright.

She looked like Percy did when he was swimming: happy and in his own element. Of course with Percy, it was literally true, but Rachel had molded into her role nicely. She had meetings with Apollo every other day and participated in training with the campers in the meantime. To Annabeth, she had never been better.

After Percy's birthday, a small part of her couldn't help but think that part of the reason she became Oracle was to let Annabeth be with Percy. If that was the case, then Annabeth owed her life to that mortal. She had done something incredibly selfless and kind.

So Annabeth made the move to befriend her. She found they had a lot in common. They both had a similar taste in the fine arts, held many favorite artists/architects in common, and shared a passion for Netflix rom-coms. They spent hours talking about the most random topics; one day they started off talking about Chris Evans and ended up discussing the pros and cons of the Industrial Revolution. Within the span of a week, Rachel had shown Annabeth her brave, funny, and caring side, and Annabeth couldn't get enough of it. She loved spending time with the redhead mortal, and she hoped it went the other way.

Somewhere in the middle of "I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great Grandpa," Annabeth wrapped her hand around Rachel's. Her eyes seemed to glow as she smiled.

In Rachel, Annabeth had found a friend. Someone to trust. Someone to depend on. Maybe even another bond to last the ages.

Funny how all of that came from one mortal girl.

* * *

 **Please review, and don't forget to check out my story Oceans Away!**


	4. Someday

The night was peaceful. Crickets chirping. Dragons roaring. The occasional screeching of harpies.

Speaking of which, he was so glad the harpies didn't bother to check the stables for straggling campers. What camper in his right mind would sneak out of his cabin late at night and head towards the stables?

Percy ran his fingers through Blackjack's mane. If horses could purr, the pegasus was surely doing so.

 _Keep doing that, boss. I haven't been combed in weeks._

Percy frowned. _I'm not going to groom you, Blackjack. I didn't come here to_ groom _you._

And he didn't. In fact, he had gone there for no other reason than to calm himself. The Battle of the Labyrinth had been over a week ago, yet he still couldn't forget the screams of his friends as they were attacked by the hordes of monsters emerging from the maw of the maze. He shuddered as he remembered how Castor died that day, along with many others, none of whom deserved their fate.

A soft whisper scared him out of his wits. "Hey."

Percy shrieked and backed himself against his pegasus. Blackjack neighed in fear. The expletives that came out of the horse's mouth were worse than he'd ever heard anyone say.

" _Di immortales,_ Annabeth! What are you doing here?" Percy whisper-yelled.

Annabeth swung her Yankees cap around on her index finger. "I saw you sneak out of your cabin. I wanted to see what you were doing."

He buried his hands in his hair. "Couldn't you have ditched the cap?"

"And get eaten by harpies? No thanks."

 _Whoooooo,_ Blackjack exhaled. _Gods. I think that scare calls for a donut run._

Percy turned to Blackjack. "It's the middle of the night, dude. Why now?"

Blackjack replied, _When you gotta go, you gotta go. You coming or not?_

Annabeth knitted her eyebrows. "What's he saying?"

Percy relayed the information to Annabeth. "Donut run. You coming?"

Begrudgingly, she got onto the pegasus behind Percy. He gulped as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Her warmth fled into his body as her chest pressed against his back. He ignored the part of his subconscious that marveled at how good it felt.

Blackjack took flight with a flurry of loud wing flaps, drawing the attention of the cleaning harpies. By the time the harpies reached the stables, however, Blackjack was already on the roof of the nearest Krispy Kreme.

Thankfully, it was a couple minutes before closing time. Percy got in, got a half-dozen donuts, and climbed back onto the roof within no time. He and Annabeth enjoyed a donut each, his with chocolate and blue sprinkles, hers simply glazed. The pegasus ate the rest.

Blackjack burped. Powdered sugar caked his muzzle. _Thanks, boss. I owe you one. Where can I take you guys? A short little getaway._

Percy stroked his chin, feigning deep thought. "Hmm. How about the Bahamas?"

 _Uh, no. My wings will fall off before I get there._

Percy looked mischievously at Annabeth, who was staring confusedly at Blackjack, trying to decipher his neighs. "How about the top of the Empire State?"

 _Now_ that, _I can do._

As Blackjack took off, Percy recalled spring break, when Paul had taken him and his mom to the mortal top of the Empire State. Yeah, it wasn't nearly as spectacular as the view from Olympus, but it was still absolutely breathtaking. And weirdly, Percy had imagined Annabeth beside him, commenting on the architecture and dreamily gazing at the view in front of them. It was if her memory would never leave him.

His thoughts immediately transferred to something else. That kiss on top of Mt. Saint Helens.

He badly wished he could return the kiss, but he could never build up the courage. Annabeth seemed to tolerate Percy at best. If he made a move that she wouldn't appreciate, it would ruin the bond they already had. And he would never risk their friendship, not for the world.

Blackjack touched down on the very top of the Empire State building, avoiding the security guards monitoring the area. Percy got off of his pegasus and helped Annabeth down.

She gave him a sideways look. "Why did you bring me here?"

Why did he bring her here? Percy knew exactly why, but at the same time, he knew he wouldn't be able to do it. It was too scary, too many things could go wrong, and everything could fall apart if he did what he wanted to.

So for once, Percy forced himself to keep his impulse at bay and act logically. To do what Annabeth would do, and nothing more.

"Because I wanted to," he simply replied.

He guided her to the edge. They sat down together, legs hanging over the platform. As they gazed up, they noticed the night sky was starless due to light pollution (poor Pan), but the buildings themselves were like glittering constellations. Twinkling 'stars' lit up the streets to the horizon and back. Beacons of all shades cast their glow upon the night sky.

Annabeth's hand twitched against the cold, hard floor. He eyed it cautiously. He could take it. He could wrap her hand with his and feel her calloused skin against his own. But would it be too much? Was it unacceptable for friends to hold hands?

Before Percy could answer his own questions, Annabeth placed her hand on his knee. "It's beautiful, Percy."

He smiled at her. Gulping, he brushed his fingers against hers. When her smile widened, he conceded himself the pleasure of taking her hand.

As she peered open-mouthed at the view in front of her, his eyes traced the contours of her glowing, bright-eyed face. Her long eyelashes. Her elegant cheekbones. Her plush, pink lips. His gaze rested at the bottom of her slender throat, where Annabeth fiddled with an owl necklace. She looked like a goddess under the city lights.

Someday, he decided. Someday, he would tell her how he really felt, regardless of whether she felt the same way. But for now, he was content. Their hands intertwined as they sat shoulder-to-shoulder, their eyes admiring the same midnight sky, their hearts beating as one - that was all he needed in his life.

Percy couldn't ask for anything more.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Please review, and feel free to request anything you want me to write about!**


	5. Colors of Love

**girlgenius22, your request will come up asap! In the meantime, here's a little blurb I wrote a while back. Enjoy!**

* * *

It was a cold winter day. Snowflakes danced in the sharp, frosty wind and settled into white blankets covering the roads. Grey clouds the color of her eyes trapped their neighborhood from the warmth of the sun. Trees rocked violently, brushing their leaves against the windows.

Percy had the heater on full blast, and Annabeth begrudgingly let it be. Yes, they weren't that financially stable yet, and their electricity bill would likely skyrocket, but she was still shivering. She probably wouldn't be able to survive if the heater wasn't on.

She walked into the living room, mug of coffee in hand. Her body was buried under a peach knit sweater and her thicker set of jeans. She had shoved her feet into a pair of fluffy boots that had her scrunching her toes to feel the softness.

Before her was quite a sight. Tarp covered the floor, paint splattering the edges. A ladder rested in the center of a ceremonial circle of paints and brushes, the supreme paint bucket sitting on top of it. Off to the side, Percy was sliding a paint roller against the wall while singing along to _All I Want For Christmas is You_.

Having heard the shuffling of shoes on tarp, Percy whisked around. "Hey. Wanna help?"

Annabeth raised her mug to her lips. "Later."

She seated herself on the stairs and watched her husband paint. The coffee warmed her to the tips of her fingers, but something else warmed her heart. Perhaps it was the sight of Percy taking the time to work on their new home. Maybe it was the way his muscles rippled under that workout T-shirt. It also could have been the fact that she was finally building something permanent with a man she could now call family.

Her coffee was long finished, but she kept her eyes on him. The song had changed to Coldplay's _Everglow_ , and Percy was still singing. He wasn't all bad at it, but he wasn't the best either. That is, unless he tried to sing the high notes. Then he sounded like a screeching walrus.

He turned back around, that teasing smirk stretching across his lips. "It's been nearly ten years since we got together and you _still_ can't cover up when you're checking me out."

She set down her mug and smiled. "Do I need to?"

Percy put the paint roller back in its container and kissed her lightly. "Not at all."

By the time Annabeth had washed her mug, changed into old clothes, and returned to the living room, Percy was nearly done with one wall. He was filling in the remaining white spots with a smaller brush.

"Don't touch," he warned.

She rolled her eyes. "You're telling _me?_ "

He stuck his tongue out at her like the kid he was. Annabeth picked up the paint roller and began working on the adjacent wall. They painted in comfortable silence for a bit, until Annabeth's eyes lit up in mischief. She turned to face him.

Percy's eyebrows were furrowed as he concentrated on painting. He seemed intensely focused, for once in his life. He hadn't noticed Annabeth coming up behind him.

Annabeth's sock-clad feet barely rustled the tarp as she swiped her paint-covered roller across Percy's back. She hopped back to her spot before Percy could comprehend what happened.

Percy froze at the sight of his blue back. His eyes narrowed as he turned, ever so threateningly, towards Annabeth's giggling form.

She knew what was going to happen. For a brief moment, she thanked the gods for reminding them to use the tarp.

Her husband lunged at her, paintbrush in hand, and caught her by the waist. To her demise, his hands were strong around her body, and he refused to let her go.

With a battle cry, Annabeth pinched Percy's waist and escaped his grip. He cried in frustration as she restocked the paint on her roller and waved it at him threateningly. His grin widened.

Percy strode towards her, swinging his brush like he would a sword. Annabeth backed up, panicked, until she collided with an unpainted wall. As he marched towards her, Annabeth realized that there was no way out. She was trapped.

Shouting in victory, Percy launched himself at her. They rolled onto the ground and battled for dominance until they found themselves lying in the middle of the room, matted with splotches of light blue paint.

Annabeth squirmed and screamed and buried her face in his chest, but he just laughed. The soft bristles of his brush caressed her skin as he whispered, "You are in _so_ much trouble."

She pulled back to observe him. Blue paint streaked across his forehead and cheeks, and a dollop of it caught onto the tip of his nose. His ocean eyes sparkled with humor. His tan skin looked even more beautiful as it glittered under the chandelier light.

Carefully avoiding the paint on his face, Annabeth brushed her lips against his.

No matter how many times she did this, it felt new every time. Every kiss was marked with different feelings, different memories. And she knew that she would never forget this one. Play-fighting with her husband on a stormy day, gazing into each other's colorful faces as they embraced the magic of a newly-married life. The feeling of joy, utter happiness, as they blocked off all the darkness that had clouded their lives up to that moment. As they truly enjoyed their lives as they were, not as they had been.

When she pulled away, Percy placed his hands on her cheek. She leaned into his warmth. "Annabeth Jackson," he whispered.

She kissed him one more, this time on the top of his head.

He tugged her hair loose and buried his hands in it as their lips connected again. Their hearts beat in sync as they interchanged breaths and words of love.

It was a cold winter day. Paint long forgotten. Snowflakes no longer falling. Mounds of white barricading the doors of all houses.

The sun broke through the unforgiving veil of dark grey clouds, its rays illuminating the streaks of color throughout the neighborhood.

But the only colors that mattered were their own.

* * *

 **Please review and request!**


	6. The Only One

**Before you guys read this, I want to apologize. I know many of you will not want to read this, considering what it is about. I wrote it when I was feeling particularly stressed and unable to keep up with everything around me, and writing is honestly like an outlet of emotions for me. And after I finished writing it and editing it, I realized that it was one of the better things I have written. So I've been debating putting it out or not, for fear of upsetting people, and in the end, I decided, why not. As long as I give you a proper warning before it starts.**

 **Anyways, girlgenius22, I'm sorry I wasn't able to make a proper break-up story for Percabeth, but if you're going for something sad, I think this might be worse.**

 **Please read with careful discretion. If you're not in the mood for a death scene or you just don't want to read such a thing, feel free to ignore this.**

 **Also, the song lyrics stated are from Hotel Ceiling by Rixton. The song is about a different type of death, so I just chose some specific lyrics that I thought applied to this scenario.**

* * *

 _I've been staring at the hotel ceiling,_

 _Drinking everything I've found this evening,_

 _Trying to hold on to the sweetest feeling,_

 _So I'll never let you go, don't you leave me lonely._

* * *

He went in his sleep.

A peaceful way to die. She's happy that the gods granted him that at least. After the hard, painful lives they had endured, that was the least they could have given him.

But did they have to do this to her?

Did they have to steal away her only light like this? Did they have to torment her by having her wake up in the morning only to see the life sucked out of his lungs, the beats fading away from his heart, his body coming closer and closer its final twitch until suddenly, it goes limp, and just like that, he's gone. And she's gone too. She died with him that very morning. All that's left is the husk of a seventy-three year-old woman who wishes she could drink herself away into oblivion, but she can't because she swore an oath on the Styx never to drink in honor of Percy's experiences with his old stepfather.

Why does she do this to herself?

And she's contemplated suicide at least three times in the last half-hour. She can't live without him. He is - was - no, she can't do this to herself right now. She can't come to terms with this. He's not dead. There's no way he's dead. This is impossible. Her Seaweed Brain is still alive.

Yes. He's alive. And soon enough, he's going to wake up and give her that lopsided grin and bury his face in her neck and let his grey hair rub against her wrinkled skin and make fun of that fact that now they're so old and yet they feel so young and in love and nothing can ever pull them apart. Not even death.

Not even death…

Could she do it? Could she pull an Orpheus and demand her husband back? Would she be able to hold onto him for a little longer?

Hades would never allow it, but she could try. She could throw a tantrum and cite all his heroic qualities and make an argument that she _needs_ him back and that the world _needs_ him back because he was the only beauty left in this world. The only thing keeping her from losing her grip on life and falling into that abyss again.

And he's _gone._

She screams into the empty apartment. Tears streaming down her face as she cries about how unfair it all is. Why did he have to go before her? Why did they have to put her through this pain?

Then she smiles. Knowing Percy, if she had gone first, the world's toilets would have all exploded when he found out. The poor plumbers…

She's reminded of the day they first properly met, when Percy decided to empty the camp's toilets on Clarisse's head. And _hers._ But it was amusing nonetheless.

And when they embarked on the _Thrill Ride O' Love_ when they were twelve, and Percy somehow kept her from losing her head over all of those spiders.

And Percy as a guinea pig. Gods, he was adorable.

Their first dance in a stuffy high school gym while Thalia complained about the absence of Green Day's music.

Their kiss on the volcano.

When he showed her his weak spot.

Their underwater kiss. Their trip to Paris. Their countless moments on the Argo II. Their engagement, wedding, honeymoon.

Every single moment she spent with him lives inside of her now. She would never forget it. She would never forget him. Ever.

The love of her life. Perseus Jackson. He would always be alive in her heart. Forever. Regardless of whether her heart was beating or still.

Her face is slick with tears, and her heart is tearing itself apart in anguish, yet she can't stop smiling.

Her beautiful Seaweed Brain.

The only one who could make her feel frustrated beyond compare, yet still command her heart. The only one who could brighten her day with just one glance. The only one who could dare make fun of her without being threatened with a dagger. The only one who she would ever depend on, the only one who loved her enough to depend on her, the only one who she respected even more than the gods, the only one.

Her one and only.

He was her heart and soul.

And now he's gone.

But he will live on.

She went in her sleep the very next day.

* * *

 **Sorry, again, about this. If you read it, I hope you liked it. If you have any feedback, feel free to let me know.**


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